The Burning Claw: Book 10, The Grey Wolves Series (19 page)

“I’m sure Drake is confused about how far to take things because, as we’ve already talked about, he knows that you aren’t knowledgeable about a lot of things, including our species, and he doesn’t want to take advantage of you,” Jacque explained. “And they all think we females are fragile. It’s our job to remind them that we are anything but.”

“How do you do that?” Bethany asked.

“You hit them,” Jen answered.

“And throw things at them,” Jacque continued.

“And make them build dog house for dogs that don’t exist,” Jen added.

“Also,” Jacque interjected, “you
can
go to a bar without their knowledge.”

“Or do a striptease in a room full of people,” Jen laughed. “Yep, that one will hit them where it hurts every time.”

“Every time?” Bethany’s eyes widened. “You mean it’s happened more than once?”

“Clothes are annoying. My philosophy is
the less you’re wearing, the shorter the show
, which has the added benefit of giving you a head start on the pursuing fur ball—because they will be pursuing, believe me.”

Bethany was speechless.

“Oh!” Jacque said, snapping her fingers. “There’s also the
your touch is uninvited
card.” She smiled at Bethany, whose eyes widened.

“Burn,” Jen said. “They hate that one. I think they’d rather you kick them in the balls than tell them they aren’t
allowed
to touch you.”

“How do those things make them see you as not fragile?”

“Listen up, sweet cheeks,” Jen said as she stood and walked to one of the shelves in the library and grabbed a book. She set it on one of the tables and flipped it open, continuing to flip pages until she came to what she was looking for. “Ah, here it is.
Fragile, of an object, easily broken or damaged, flimsy or insubstantial
.” She snorted a laugh. “Yeah right. Where was I? Oh, yeah,
easily destroyed. Fragile, of a person, not strong or sturdy; delicate and vulnerable. Synonyms include tenuous, shaky, insecure, un-reliable, flimsy, weak, delicate, and frail
. There’s more but I think we get the picture.” She slammed the book closed and sauntered back over to her seat.

“As you can see, it takes a woman with large jewels to stand up to a werewolf. We do not have the luxury of being flimsy, or easily destroyed. So when they begin to think we are, we remind them that we are not passive, vulnerable bitches. We are she-wolves, and we will bite if we have to.  Whether it’s a real bite, which
hey back to that whole foreplay thing
, or it’s only a figurative bite, they will feel our strength, our durability, and our robustness. Love that word by the way—robustness. Makes me want to strut around while nodding and saying ‘Yeah, I’m robust. What’s it to ya, punk?’ ”

“Oh holy troll tongues, please do,” Jacque begged as she laughed.

Bethany covered her mouth as she tried to keep from rolling.

“You totally got those from the antonym section, didn’t you?” Jacque asked through her fit of laughter.

“Totally,” Jen agreed still feeling robust.

Once they’d pulled themselves back together, Bethany leaned forward. “What else?”

“My, my you’ve become an eager little beaver. Oh man, that’s frickin—” Jen started to say but Jacque slapped a hand over her mouth and shook her head.

When she removed the hand, Jen’s lips puckered. “Too soon?”

Jacque nodded. “Way too soon. Teach her the slang after she’s mated.”

“You’re no fun,” Jen whined.

“Yeah and you’re a flipping Ferris wheel of laughs.”

Bethany let out a growl, much to everyone’s surprise. “How can I become knowledgeable if you two keep arguing?”

Jen leaned back on the couch. She couldn’t help the sly smile. Bethany was like a shiny wrapped Christmas present with Jen’s name on the tag. “You really are too good to be true,” she purred. “Eager and you have a backbone? Now I finally get to impart my knowledge to someone who will appreciate it.”

“Jen, NO.” Jacque placed a hand on her arm as if to hold her back.

“Oh no, wolf-princess, you aren’t taking this from me. She needs my help,” Jen pointed to Bethany. “She is frustrated and she doesn’t even understand why. That’s just cruel. I won’t leave her ignorant. She has wants and needs that only her mate can fulfill, and her mate is being a coward.”

Jacque covered her face with a hand and groaned. “I don’t know if he’ll thank you or curse you.”

“Oh, he’ll definitely thank me, eventually.” She winked at Jacque and then turned back to Bethany. “If you can feel him, tell your mate to get out of your head and give you some privacy,” Jen said as she stood and walked over to a wall of bookshelves.

“Oh, he’s not there. I think he’s pretty ticked off actually.” She paused before adding, “I sort of told him that he wasn’t allowed to touch me and that maybe another male should be the one to, you know, well, yeah…” Bethany said, her hands fidgeting restlessly in her lap. “He got pretty upset at that point and broke a lamp. So, sorry about that,” she told Jen, who had a huge smile pasted on her face.

“Wait, put on the brakes and back the truck up. You told him that he wasn’t allowed to touch you? You used one of our
foolproof, kick ya where it hurts and laugh, I am woman hear me roar, and I’m not fragile, dammit
, cards?”

Bethany nodded, looking very unsure. “I think so. I said he’d lost the privilege.”

“Oh this is rich,” Jen laughed as she threw her head back. “I’m sure he was beyond ticked. He flipped his lid no doubt. Wait.” She sat up. “Did you say he broke a lamp?”

“I don’t get what the big deal is. He said something about me not understanding about your magic,” Bethany admitted.

“Pack magic is powerful. Words can be very powerful if fueled by the right emotion. He’s your mate and he’s bitten you. That bite created an even stronger bond than just the mental one that you two share. You are part Canis lupus. All of those things factor into your ability to wield pack magic. If you truly meant that you didn’t want his touch, that it is unwelcome, and you spoke those words to him, then he will not be able to touch you. Literally, he cannot touch you. We’ve, uh, had experience with that particular magic, isn’t that right, Red?”

Jacque snorted. “Oh yeah, we’ve been down that road. The fur balls were not happy.”

“Understatement,” Jen cooed.

“Truth,” Jacque agreed.

“What will happen if he tries to touch me?” Bethany asked with a raised brow.

“He’ll be thrown into next Saturday onto his overbearing backside.”

“Can a backside really be overbearing?” Jacque asked.

Jen snapped her fingers at her friend, though her eyes stayed on Bethany. “Nobody asked for your commentary.”

“Technically, it was a question, not a comment.”

“I think I liked you better when you were almost dead,” Jen huffed.

“The feeling might be mutual,” Jacque countered.

“Wait, what?” Bethany’s eyes widened. “You’ve
both
been almost dead?”

“I actually was dead,” Jen admitted. “Peri brought me back. It was no big thing.”

Jacque started to open her mouth but Jen threw her a look causing her to snap her mouth shut.

“Can we please get back to Tinker Bell?” She motioned to Bethany who frowned. “Well, you’re kind of small. Curvy, but small, like Tinker Bell. Have you seen that chick’s hips? She’s got this tiny waist and—”

“Jen!” Jacque growled.

“Right, sorry. Let’s start with what you do know,” she began. “You know, obviously, what kissing is?”

Bethany nodded.

“Okay, well everything from that point on needs to happen after the whole life commitment happens, because, honey, once lines start getting crossed and your momentum gets going, it is hard to take the wind back out of the sails and nearly impossible to put the ship in reverse. Anything we talk about from this point forward will be subjects intended to be experienced with your mate alone. Only the person willing to bind himself to you and vow to put you first, to protect you, to love you, and to cherish you, only he should have the right to your body, which is a gift. Never forget that.”

Bethany seemed to consider this for a moment and then she said, “Agreed.”

“How can you be so deep and yet so shallow?” Jacque asked her best friend with a raised brow and awestruck eyes.

“It’s a gift, Red. A burden I must bear. A cross I must carry. A—”

“We get the point,” Jacque growled.

Jen stood and walked over to one of the many shelves that housed an array of books. She pulled out several books from the shelves, grinning to herself and humming. She walked back over to where the other two sat and resumed her place on the couch. Jen held the books in her lap and leaned on them as she looked at Bethany. “Let’s start with the basics. You know the difference between a man and woman’s body, correct?”

Bethany’s slow nod was not reassuring.

“Okay, even more basic. Boys have a penis and girls have a vagina,” Jen said as though talking to a child.

“Jen,” Jacque groaned. “First of all, it was disturbing that you knew exactly where those books were and, bloody pixie balls, please keep the descriptions to an absolute minimum.”

“What? She needs to know this stuff.” Jen frowned. “Bloody pixie balls? Really, Jacque? I think being nearly dead has detached your brain from your mouth.”

“You’re one to talk, you filter-less heifer.”

Jen ignored her redheaded friend and turned back to Bethany. “So you know the differences?”

“Yes, I know that,” Bethany said with more confidence.

“Good, now do you know how they fit together?”

“What?” Bethany’s eyes widened.

Jen was practically bouncing in her seat. “This is better than I expected.” She opened one of the books on her lap and turned it to face Bethany.

Jacque leaned forward and gasped when she saw what was in the book. “That was in the pack library?”

“Told you Alina and Vasile were freaks,” Jen smirked.

“This is your library, you over-sexed, freak,” Jacque reminded her friend.

Jen shrugged. “It was never in question that I’m a freak. But a lot of these books were brought over from the Romanian pack library when Decebel took over the Serbian pack. Apparently, the previous Alpha was into keeping his pack ignorant on, well, pretty much everything concerning the history of their race. Personally, I think it was Vasile’s way of getting rid of the evidence,” she said, waving said evidence at her.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” Jacque teased and then held up her hand. “No more. We could do this all day. She needs our help.” Jacque motioned toward a very still, very shocked looking Bethany.

Bethany hadn’t said a word. She was staring at the pictures with a look on her face that Jen couldn’t quite decipher. There was shock, maybe a tad bit of embarrassment, a drop of horror, and a whole lot of fascination.

“Is he—” Bethany started and began to point but then pulled her hand back. “I mean, that’s…” She stumbled over her words trying to process what she was seeing. Finally, she ended with “really?”

“Maybe you should have started a little slower,” Jacque muttered.

“They’re pictures,” Jen huffed. “How much more elementary can you get?”

“They’re pictures of intimate positions, Jen, not freaking Dr. Seuss books.”

Jen laughed. “Can you imagine if Dr. Seuss published a book like this? Instead of Horton Hatches the Egg it would be Ferguson Fertilizes the Female. You’d never look at those books the same.”

Jacque screeched and hit her with a pillow. “I have a kid who’s probably going to want those books read to him and you just totally messed it up.”

“I never claimed to be sane,” Jen chirped. “Now, getting back to our
not
Dr. Seuss picture book. Do you have any questions?”

“Just a few hundred,” Bethany answered with a straight face.

Jen grinned. “Excellent. What do you want to know?”